When Victoria Reigned
by Kel the Nightmare
Summary: Three toms who aren’t who they seem. A young leader trying to find his place. A rising star in the theatre. A gold-digging queen. Could these possibly be the Jellicles? DeuteronomyGus Slash.
1. To Have the Experience

AN: This sadistic little brainwave hit as soon as Tie Kerl told me he was giving the Jellicle leader the name of Alexander the Great in Raising Deuteronomy. For the record, he denies having any part in this. But we all know a lie when we hear one… The rating will most likely be raised in a few chapters.

He hobbled slowly into the junkyard, relying heavily on the support from his daughter-in-law. His paws shook, he no longer tried to stop them. His once beautiful coat was faded and aged, copper turning to orange, cream turning to greyish-beige, and black to brownish-grey. His blue eyes darted from place to place, but they came to rest on a single cat when he finally entered the tire area.

The tom in question was just as old as he was, and just as worse for wear. His own silvery coat had faded off to grey, and his black tabby stripes long gone to the same brownish-grey Gus's had. Old Deuteronomy was the leader of his tribe.

It hadn't always been that way. Once he had been simply Deuteronomy to him. His fan, his friend, his lover.

Those days were gone, however, and there was no use bringing them up. In the end, the leader had made a choice and they had both chosen to live by its outcomes. He eased himself onto an old paint cat, assisted by a queen the same age as Jellylorum.

After all, it hadn't turned out that badly. They both had families, Gus having one son and Deuteronomy being the father of four sons and three daughters. One greeted him respectively, a silver tabby who looked remarkably like his father with the exception of a few white patches.

The aged cat stood and sang, his rich, deep voice carrying a message few Jellicles understood. Some tuned out, others just enjoyed his voice and didn't care about what he was saying. Gus understood, and wished he could stop listening.

To have the experience and miss the meaning… Was that what had happened? They hadn't realized what they had until it was gone? Or had they simply sacrificed what they had to put others at ease? Where had they gone wrong? Everlasting Cat, where had they gone right?

Another voice filled the night air, this one pure and high, sweet and beautiful. The tiny ruby coloured kitten was holding the paw of her half brother and he the paw of his sister. The twins were using Jemima to put their father's message into layman's terms, something the others could begin to understand.

A smile twitched on his face as he listened to her. So innocent the little one was. How naive to the ways of the world. Most certainly Deuteronomy's daughter. He slowly closed his eyes and rose, walking. Towards what, he wasn't sure.

He felt a paw on his shoulder. He looked up into the deep brown eyes he had gazed into many years ago with a loving passion. He had once seen flames dancing in them. Now he only saw pain. A tom who had pretended to love many queens so that his tribe could have a suitable leader and an heir.

Deuteronomy gave him a warm smile, and gestured gently towards Jellylorum. Gus turned his back on the leader and stumbled back to his paint can while Munkustrap helped his father to his throne.

The past was gone, no use going back there. But if he could have one wish, it would be used to turn things back to the way they once were. Even those stolen moments together at the theatre late at night were better than anything…


	2. With Strings Attached

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AN: Ralli-Rah: Thank you! I hope I can pull this off, because it's going to turn into a big mess if I can't. And I've been trying to figure out what do to with this pairing for a long time…

"And that concludes our training session," said Parien, with no slight smirk on his flat orange face. "Any questions?"

"Can I die now?" Deuteronomy asked wearily.

"Not until you produce an heir," was the huge tom's reply. "Now get along, Ileot will be looking for you, and you know how he gets." He paused, before adding "You're improving a hellava lot, Old Deuteronomy. Well, in your fighting, at least. Wish I could say the same about your looks."

Leaving the older tom to laugh, the new Jellicle leader trudged off, fuming to himself. _You're a fine one to talk about your looks, you great bloody pumpkin. You look like you've been kicked in the face. And _No!_ I don't know how Ileot gets. I've only_ _been around him the majority of my life! Bloody cad…_

Broad-shouldered and tall, the leader was not the kind of cat one would want to meet in a dark alley. In the light of day he looked fierce enough. But despite his appearance, he was actually a rather composed tom who wanted nothing more than a reign of peace. His thick, slightly dull silver fur with cutting black tabby stripes, however, was matted with blood and covering various slashes. He could thank Parien for that.

The young cat had been pushed to his limits over the past three months, both physically and mentally. He had to be a good leader, so it was lessons with Ileot and Rebbew, the two toms who had been his father's second and third in command. He also had to be the Jellicle Protector as soon as possible, so it was training with the current Protector, a brute of a Maine Coon named Parien.

Deuteronomy's father, Old Flintion, had died three months ago. Not that anyone was sorry to see him go. It was claimed that he had gotten over confident and had his throat ripped out by the Pollicle three blocks away from the junkyard. More likely, everyone had gotten fed up with him and his talk of war, and a certain Protector had finished him off in the dead of night.

Either way, it felt as if the weight of the world had been shifted onto Deuteronomy's shoulders, and he wasn't sure if he was ready yet. He was barely over adolescence, he wasn't ready to be addressed as Old.

And then there was Grizabella… As Parien would likely put it, "Everlastin' Cat-damned street slut".

Rumoured to be the former mistress of the late Old Flintion and more than ready to sink her claws into his son, Grizabella truly was a Glamour Cat. With a shimmering silvery coat, finely manicured claws, and an awful temper, they very mention of her name made Deuteronomy shutter.

But the sad truth was that he had to have a mate. Cats would start to wonder if he didn't have one. He kept stalling, saying that he had not yet found a suitable queen to bear his heirs. In truth, he wanted love. Or at least someone he was attracted to. And he simply wasn't attracted to queens. It was unnatural, and a secret he kept buried deep inside of him, but it was true.

So he was stuck with Grizabella, who took her role as faux mate a little too seriously. They slept in separate dens, thank the Everlasting Cat, but she hounded him constantly, bubbling and smiling and asking him to sit down and pick out kitten names.

Bleh.

"Old Deuteronomy! Old Deuteronomy!"

He stopped, turning around to see Rebbew chasing after him. Now there was a tom who deserved a good ass-kicking. A brown-noser if there ever was one, sucking up had gained him the position of third-in-command, technically forth, as Parien still had command over him.

"What do you want?" he asked roughly, frowning slightly.

Rebbew pinned his ears back as his tail twitched nervously. "Well, sir, the thing is, you see, Old Deuteronomy, sir…"

"For the love of the Everlasting Cat, just spit it out!"

"Ileot _requests _your presence at an event tonight."

"Request meaning it's mandatory," Deuteronomy sighed. "An event… What am I, a show pony?"

"Er, sir, you aren't really so much a show pony as you are a…"

"I wasn't looking for an answer!" he snapped, and felt a slight tinge of guilt when the older but smaller tom cowered a bit before him. "This event, just what is it?"

"A play, sir. Romeo and Juliet. At the theatre down Barring Street."

"There'll be humans in it?"

"No, sir, not at all, sir. The theatre is closed for the humans, but there's a way in through the back. Completely feline, no humans in attendance whatsoever."

"And why do I have to go?" Deuteronomy questioned uninterestedly, inspecting his claws carefully. _They really do need to be sharpened, and there isn't any way to make Rebbew's face look worse…_

"Two reasons, sir," the tom squeaked out, gulping as he saw the broad-shouldered leader clicking his talons together. "One is that the son of a late Jellicle is in it, and Ileot thinks that he should become a Jellicle himself. His name is Asparagus."

"The father's or the son's?"

"The son's. I believe the father was called Sparticus."

__

Asparagus… he mused to himself. _Interesting name. Let's hope it fits the tom, for my sake_. _If I have to spent another night buttering up one of those stuffed-collar toms up Saint James Street… _"And the second reason?"

"Secondly and most importantly, starring as Juliet is a rather attractive queen, so I've heard, by the name of Lillith. Ileot has met her, and has deemed her to be a more than suitable mate for you, sir. He wants you to meet her after the play tonight, and he hopes that something becomes of it."

"Does he now?" asked Deuteronomy, raising his eyebrows slightly. "And just what would we do about the Old Grey Mare if something did become of it?"

Rebbew cleared his throat, and then cleared it again. "I'll assume you mean Grizabella? Well, it'd be easy, really, what with her reputation and all, sir. We'd simply unearth a few scandals and make it inappropriate for her to be associated with the Jellicle leader, and certainly not as his mate. You'd go through a short period of grief, and then become mated to the pure, innocent Lillith."

__

A way to get rid of Grizabella. Tempting… he thought, the corners of his lips twitching. _Any queen is better than her, and by the sounds of it, this Lillith is dumb and submissive. I'll barely have to see her!_

Finally, he said aloud "I'll go, and I'll meet this queen. Now scurry along to Ileot so you can get your treat for being such a good little messenger."

Rebbew twitched his tail, scowling a bit, before quickly bowing and scampering off.

__

Everlasting Cat, what I wouldn't give for just one clean shot at him. Just one! I'd fuck up that face of his so badly his mother wouldn't even recognize him. The leader sighed deeply. _Ah, well. Guess I'm going to a play tonight. It's better than spending time with Grizabella, in any case…_

"Look out below!"

A heavy pulley wheel attached to the thick stage rigging swung down, nearly taking off a brown and white patched tom's head. The male ducked just in time, and looked angrily up at where it had come from.

"Gus! For the love of Ibsen! Quit fucking around and help us get this curtain working or I'll kick your bloody arse from here to Rome!"

The young tom gave a goofy smile, but pinned his ears back apologetically.

His coat was a mosaic of copper and coal black overtop a rich cream base colour. It gleamed, even in the presently dim lighting. It should, for all the time he spent grooming it. He was a touch vain, he would be the first to admit it. But with light blue eyes and a slim, graceful body, it was hard not to be. And he had talent to boot.

He scrambled down the ladder, letting do the last eight rungs and landing neatly on his feet before hurrying over to lend a paw with the repair of the curtain ropes.

While it was true that Asparagus wasn't a huge star yet, he was getting there and getting there fast. He had been given the role of Mercecio, which was nothing to be taken lightly considering the amount of competition he had beat off for the part.

Giving the curtain rope a final tug to check the repairs, he hurried off to practise his lines once more before show time. Or at least he intended to do. What he actually did was hurry off into the director.

Groiger was a gruff and touch old cat with scratches across his face and one mauled ear. There was some speculation as to just how this had happened, and theories ranged from a fight over a queen to Siamese pirates. He had a loud voice and a harsh demeanour which, along with his rust-orange coat and black tabby stripes, had earned him the nickname of Growl Tiger.

Old Growl Tiger didn't look amused at having been run into. "Asparagus, you idiot, could you watch where your paws are carrying your body!"

For the second time in a short span, the young tom pinned his copper ears back. "Sorry, Groiger sir. I was in a bit of a rush, and I didn't see you just standing there."

"You'd miss China if a Panda bear poked you in the eye with a chopstick, Asparagus," he commented dryly. "I've been looking for you. I need to tell you that you had better perform your best tonight."

"You don't need to tell me that, sir."

"Old Deuteronomy, the Jellicle leader, is going to be in the audience."

Gus's jaw dropped. "_The _Old Deuteronomy, the leader of _the _Jellicles? Please tell me you're joking, Groiger. What the hell is he doing here?"

"He is considering letting you join the tribe, mainly because your father was a trusted Jellicle."

Sparticus had been a Jellicle, he had always known that. But the tom died when Gus was a kitten, and his mother, having no tribe, raised him on the streets. Illness had taken her before he was a teenager, and he stole to feed himself and slept in abandoned buildings. It had been Groiger himself who had taken him in and straightened him out.

"Me? A… A Jellicle…?"

"My words exactly," the old tom sighed. "But obviously they see something in you that I fail to. You'd better not blow this, Asparagus. No monkey-business tonight, is that clear?"

"As crystal, sir."

"Good."

"What is the point, Ileot!"

"You are the one who asked if there was a way to be rid of Grizabella, Old Deuteronomy," the yellow-toned cat replied calmly. "I found a suitable queen, and thought that you'd be interested."

"Would it be too much trouble to at least _ask _me before you practically promise me to someone I've never seen? You keep going on about how I've got to run this tribe, but you three all but run my life!" The leader sat on the bumper of the TSE 1, and his slammed his paw on the trunk in an attempt to make his point heard.

"You are overreacting, sir," he sighed, in the same even tones than drove his leader to the brink of insanity. "We are simply going to see a play that I have heard is excellent, and we are going to meet with a potential Jellicle at the cast party afterwards. If we happen to see that queen, well, then that is simply a coincidence in our favour."

"Rebbew told me that was the main reason we were even going."

"And just how good is Rebbew's memory, especially when you are sharpening your claws like a thug from the wrong side of town? You honestly should refrain from senselessly scarring that poor tom, his nerves are not what they should be."

"And between me and you and the rest of the world, neither is his brain."

"Yes, well…" Ileot sighed again, deeper this time. "He tries, does he not?"

"He tries to suck up, if that's what you mean. He's got his head so far up your ass it's hard to tell where you end and he begins!"

There wasn't even the barest hint of amusement on Ileot's face. "There is no need for that, Old Deuteronomy."

The large tom growled softly, but kept his temper in check. He was not one to make war, but his nerves were shot and his patience was wearing thin. It seemed like the three toms who had been entrusted with his care were hell-bent on running his life.

"I beg of you to remember who I am, Ileot," he said, his muscles tensing and claws digging into the TSE 1's already chipped and rusted paint. "I am Old Deuteronomy. I am the Jellicle leader. I am the second law. I answer to the Everlasting Cat, and to no other. I most certainly do not take orders from a cat like you."

Before he could blink, the yellow cat's claws were pressed against his throat. "You are a puppet leader," he hissed. "You always will be. And I control the strings. You will never be anything more. When we have no use for you, we will dispose of you, just like a broken armature."

Deuteronomy gave a soft growl, but could do nothing. "You won't rule over me forever, Ileot. Once I officially come of age…"

"If you know what's good for you, kit, you'll play along," he smirked, pressing in a little harder. "You wouldn't want to meet the same end as your father, now, would you?"

"My father was a lunatic."

"I know. That's why you use the past tense when you speak of him." The second-in-command released him, stalking off, once again confident on his hold on power.

The leader shook his rage. He pounded his paws on the boot of the car, and placed his face on it. It took every ounce of him not to cry.


End file.
